The Curse of the Singing Wolf (20 page)

Cold despite the fire, breaths
on hold, hearts pounding, they lay in wait, poised for battle, when
they heard a supernatural sound like an angel singing, heavenly and
eerily beautiful. Each man thought he might be hearing things,
froze with fear then shook himself, reminding himself he did not
believe in angels or devils or ghosts. The sublime singing seemed
to grow slightly louder, pass right past the archway, just on the
other side of the tapestry, then grow gradually softer, as though
fading away. Moriarty was the first to break cover. He raced toward
the archway, realizing nothing was going according to plan, and
that whoever had just passed was getting clean away.

“Reichenbach,” he whispered as
loudly as he dared, “the other stairs!”

The Prussian was swift to act.
He knew Moriarty meant for him to take the kitchen stairs and head
off whoever it was. They would corner the
supernatural
singer
, coming at the strange creature from both directions.
Reichenbach had to get to the chamber with the well before the
singing phantom had a chance to disappear. Prince Orczy followed
hot on the heels of Reichenbach. Von Gunn chased after him. Dr
Watson ordered Fedir to stay with the Countess then took off in
pursuit of the Irishman.

Moriarty flew down the spiral
stairs several curves ahead of Dr Watson. The stone corkscrew was
steep, dark and narrow and it took all his concentration not to
break his neck. Chanteloup was not designed for royal courtiers and
ladies-in-waiting to traipse daintily back and forth, it was a
medieval fortress for a suzerain and a place of refuge for hapless
villagers in times of war. Reichenbach and his cohort fared better.
The kitchen stairs were built wider so that servants could pass two
abreast. The stairs turned just once near the base as they opened
into the main kitchen where foodstuffs were plated-up just before
serving, thus avoiding rank food smells and smoke from the cooking
fires venting into the great hall.

Moriarty reached the chamber
that housed the well, took a huge mouthful of air to replace what
had been expended, and looked quickly around. A door on the far
side was bolted this side and the room was empty. He cursed loudly
and made a dash through various storerooms, past the larder and
pantry and scullery which were all similarly bolted this side, and
stopped abruptly outside the door of the old bakery, the room where
the old couple slept because it was warm and adjacent to the main
kitchen. A fire was crackling in the hearth warming the bread oven.
The old couple was seated at the bread table, cutting a slice of
bread from yesterday’s loaf. In front of them sat two cups of
steaming bouillon broth and a flickering candle in a wooden holder.
Before he could question them, Reichenbach came from the opposite
direction, followed by Orczy and von Gunn. Stupefied, the four men
stood outside the doorway and stared at each other while they
recovered their wits and breaths. Dr Watson, panting heavily,
arrived a few moments later. He was the first to speak.

“Well?” he said, wondering what
he’d missed, looking eagerly from one man to another until his eyes
spotted the old couple who appeared to be having supper or perhaps
breakfast. He actually wondered if they were just going to bed or
just getting up. “What happened?”

Moriarty looked vexed.
“Nothing!”

“Nothing!” repeated
Reichenbach.

The five men packed themselves
into the bakery and fired off a fusillade of questions at the old
couple: Did you see anyone? Did you see anything? Did someone just
rush past? Are you hiding someone? Does someone else live in the
castle? Is there a secret tunnel? Where is the Singing Wolf? Where
is your mistress? What’s going on?

The old man and his near-deaf
wife remained nonplussed. They dipped crusty morsels of bread into
their cups of steaming hot bouillon broth and chewed the crusts
with toothless gums and shrugged their shoulders and shook their
heads. Exasperated, the men made a cursory search of the room then
gave up in frustration and returned to the great hall.

“I’m telling you there was no
place to hide on those stairs,” snarled the Irishman when von Gunn
accused him of rushing straight past the
fantom
in his wild
panic.

When they returned to the great
hall it was Xenia, who, having posted herself back at the same
archway as before, confirmed that no creature had doubled back.
Reichenbach and his cohort likewise asserted that there did not
appear to be anyone in the main kitchen as they rushed through it
to meet up with Moriarty. Prince Orczy suggested they mount a
search of the domestic storerooms but in truth they were all
exhausted and, besides, they didn’t even know what they were
searching for. They all agreed an attack by Sarazan was unlikely
but they would nevertheless see out the night in the great hall.
The bedrooms in the west wing were freezing cold, and the fires in
the east wing would have burned themselves out by now. Just to be
on the safe side, Velazquez was ordered to remain with them until
morning.

The remainder of the night
passed uneventfully and it was not until breakfast when they were
all seated bleary-eyed back around the dining table that Moriarty
voiced something that had been troubling him before he fell into
fitful sleep.

“Last night, as I was rushing
down the stairs I smelled something unusual.” He looked to Dr
Watson for a response and was not disappointed.

“I smelled something too -
perfume.”

Moriarty was bracing for the
inevitable gibe from his cohort but it never came. The next comment
came from the Countess.

“Why don’t the two of you go up
to the south tower after breakfast and check the scent bottles on
the dressing table. See if you can pinpoint the smell.”

Von Gunn gave a snort. “What’s
the use of that? We all agree there is someone else here in the
castle. It may well be that our hostess has lost her mind. Or it
could be a lunatic, some mad servant or a crazy relation who has
murdered the Singing Wolf and intends to do the same to us. Who
cares what scent the maniac prefers! Which reminds me - we haven’t
interrogated Velazquez. I noticed it was Inez and Desi serving the
breakfast. This time it was a rack of toast on the floor. That
black bitch is getting clumsier by the day. I think the toreador is
keeping out of sight. I will catch up with him straight after
breakfast.”

Reichenbach was the voice of
reason. “First up, I think we need to check if there was another
rockslide during the night and if there has been any damage to the
walls or ramparts. If we all take a different section of wall it
will be quicker.”

They all nodded.

“We should also check how the
rock clearing is progressing,” suggested the Prince. “I can do that
after we check the walls.”

“No,” said Moriarty with
determined emphasis. “When we open the gates and the portcullis I
think it is important that we are all there together. If Sarazan is
waiting on the other side we need to be prepared to back each other
up. Until we know what’s going on and what we are up against we
must remain vigilant. That means no wandering off on your own,
gentleman, and lady in particular.” He looked meaningfully at the
Countess. “It is advisable that you keep your muff pistol handy and
one of your trusty servants by your side any time you are not with
one of us.”

Dr Watson waited until they all
spread out to check the walls. He followed Moriarty and caught up
to him when the latter stopped to light a cigarette, shielding the
lucifer from the wind with his hand; a gold signet ring glinting in
the dull morning light highlighted a shamrock.

“Do you think the Countess
might be in personal danger from whoever is at large?”

Moriarty offered a cigarette to
the doctor and waited for him to light it. “Anything is possible at
this stage and if there’s a lunatic on the loose who has a penchant
for perfume and dolls and has murdered our hostess and disposed of
her body, well, it could well be a mad woman with a grudge against
her own sex.”

The two men climbed up to the
ramparts and gazed out across the southward spreading plain. They
were standing at the highest point of the steepest part of the
plateau. The drop was almost vertical - fortunately it had not
suffered any damage. A rockfall here would bring down the entire
south tower.

“By the way,” said the doctor
as they were making their way to the portcullis to meet up with the
others. “I thought I smelled that same perfume in the room where
the old couple sat.”

Moriarty turned sharply. “I did
too. I wasn’t sure because of the smell of the bread and the
bouillon, but I thought it was there. We can check the scent
bottles later this morning.”

They reconvened in the shadow
of the barbican. Prince Orczy informed them there had been a minor
rockslide on the western side. None of the walls had suffered any
damage. It was time to open the gate and the portcullis. This was a
painstaking exercise that could not be hurried. Cautiously, they
ventured outside and down the zig-zag path, some continued further
while others took up defensive positions behind the rocks. The
villagers were still hard at it, clearing the way. Their voices
could be heard shouting directions, and every now and then rocks
like giant marbles could be heard rolling down the slope. Prince
Orczy clambered onto a large boulder to speak to the one of the
villagers but as soon as he called out to the man a gunshot rang
out. He leapt back in fright and landed awkwardly. Dr Watson,
dodging a hail of bullets, rushed forward to see if the Prince had
injured himself. Fortunately, he was only bruised and winded.
Gradually, the two men inched their way back to safety.

They could have immediately
retreated behind the safety of the gate but they had the advantage
of higher ground and Reichenbach urged them to make the most of it.
Fedir and the Countess were positioned on the ramparts which gave
them a bird’s eye view of the battleground. Sarazan had posted only
eight men to keep watch. If they could dispatch all eight now it
would be easier for them when they eventually tried to leave. Fedir
shot the nearest bandit clean through the head. The Countess
claimed another. Reichenbach winged a third. It was hard to know
who scored next but in less than twenty minutes they had taken down
seven men. The eighth could be seen fleeing for his life back to
his horse.

They were congratulating
themselves when someone shot out of the gate and down the slope. It
was Velazquez.

“What the hell is he doing?”
cried Moriarty.

“Come back!” called Dr Watson.
“Don’t be a fool!”

But Velazquez was running for
his life, dragging his injured leg. He tripped and fell, picked
himself up, and pushed on, limping awkwardly one moment, sprinting
like a drunkard with the devil on his tail the next. Only the
Countess understood how terrified he was of being interrogated. He
preferred to take his chances with the brigands than with the men
inside Chanteloup.

Suddenly they heard a gunshot.
Velazquez fell and this time he did not get up. His body rolled and
rolled down the mountainside, crashing against the rocks, until it
came to a precipice and went over the edge into freefall. They did
not hear the thud when it crash-landed, but there was no way
Velazquez would have survived the bone-crunching punishment. Badly
shaken, they retreated inside Chanteloup, lowered the portcullis
and barred the gate.

Coffee and seed cake was
waiting for them in the great hall.

“That was damn bad business
with Velazquez,” pronounced Reichenbach, pouring himself a cup of
strong hot black coffee. “What possessed him to run like that?”

Everyone shrugged and shook
their heads, lost for words.

“It went well for us at least,”
noted Moriarty. “Sarazan will know he’s not dealing with
amateurs.”

“It certainly lifted the odds
in our favour,” said the Prince. “That was a first rate shot by the
Countess’s man.”

Von Gunn preferred something
stronger than coffee and went to the sideboard. “Blast that
lily-livered bull-fighter! He polished off the cognac before he
bolted. He must have been blind drunk. I’ll bring up another
bottle.”

“Bring two,” said the Prince.
“We might need it tonight.” He looked at the Prussian. “I presume
we are following the same defensive plan tonight?”

“I think it would be wise. The
same possibility exists about being picked off one at a time. And
as the Colonel cautioned – until we know what we are up against we
should not take chances.”

Reichenbach and Prince Orczy
opted to catch up on some sleep. They were not expecting Sarazan to
launch a counter-offensive so soon after suffering severe losses
and with their doors locked they felt safe from murderous attacks
by singing phantoms. The Countess opted to do the same but when she
reached her bedroom the first thing she noticed was that the
mysterious doll she had deposited on her bed had disappeared. She
quizzed Xenia but the maid had not seen it since they all set off
after breakfast to check the ramparts and she had gone to help in
the kitchen. That meant a third party had visited her bedroom in
her absence.

“Light the fire,” she said to
her maid, feeling a cold chill that had more to do with the missing
doll than the temperature of the chamber, “and instruct Desi to
bring up some hot water. I will take a bath this afternoon and wash
my hair.”

Xenia waited until her mistress
reached the door. “That man not good for you.”

The Countess looked back over
her shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

“The Irish – he trouble.”

“I can look out for
myself.”

“He want your money.”